The Much Smaller, and Flatter Than Average Grave
by Celestique
Summary: A short fic in which Zoe Wolfe reflects on her final moments... In a trash compactor. (Based of the trash compactor scene in The Silent Spy)


**Yo, fellow Nancy Drew fans! Recently, I've been in a writing mood and just yesterday, I wrote a fic for the Heathers fandom called _Pep Rally From Hell. _If it isn't obvious yet, writing that didn't satisfy my writing needs. So, I decided to write something about one of my favorite characters - Zoe Wolfe from The Silent Spy. This fic also happened because The Sea of Darkness is coming! And I honestly cannot wait for it. Be warned, there's spoilers ahead (for SPY). So, if you didn't play SPY yet, I suggest you leave first.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Nancy Drew or Zoe Wolfe or the Trash Compactor. Those are all owned by Her Interactive.**

* * *

Zoe Wolfe had had a lot of near death experiences, but this one takes the cake.

She was about to be crushed inside a compacting trash compactor.

_Lovely._

To top it off, she was about to be crushed inside a compacting trash compactor with the obstinate girl detective herself, Nancy Drew!

Bridget Shaw would be completely fine with this, maybe. She was always a strange personality to take on. Not to mention –

Oh god, how long had they been stuck inside this thing?

Zoe looked at the sound asleep sleuth. It was honestly outstanding how Nancy managed to stay unconscious for this long. She would have applauded the girl if it weren't for the fact they were in a _freaking compacting trash compactor._ It's been what, ten minutes? Maybe more?

She checked her watch, just to be sure. It's a good thing it could light up. Wonderful, she was going to spend her last moments checking the time.

So, it has been ten minutes.

Zoe kicked the fallen detective's body. Maybe this time, she would finally wake up. Maybe. This was an optimist's hope.

Zoe Wolfe was anything but an optimist. She was a realist. She saw the world for how it is, and not some sugar-coated or depressing definition of it.

Whatever, it's not like it matters when you're in a trash compactor.

Wait, did she just hear groaning? Could it be?

She looked again at Nancy. _Finally_! This girl was finally awake. Man, she was such a heavy sleeper.

"Hey, look who's up! I didn't want to wake you. You seemed _so _peaceful." Zoe decided to tell the girl, despite still being groggy. Sure, she couldn't _see _Nancy clearly, but the groaning gave it away. This trash compactor really needed better lighting.

Nancy finally replied. "Ugh, where are we?"

_Wonderful question, Nancy._

She shrugged half-heartedly before answering. "Dumpster," She was not in the least bit surprised that Nancy asked that. It was common sense, she'll give her that. At least she wasn't entirely stubborn and insane –

Wait, scratch that. Nancy Drew was completely stubborn. If Zoe needed proof, she can just flashback to the time Nancy wouldn't follow her instructions.

Oh, right. That was _always_.

"I think this is a trash compactor. And it's compacting!" Nancy told her, surprised.

_Oh, really? Thanks for stating the obvious._

Zoe shrugged again, not that Nancy would have been able to see it. "Sure, why not?"

She could guess that the girl was trying to narrow her eyes. "You seem a little _casual_," She noted.

_Yes, well, you just woke up and I had been awake since ten minutes ago. Time flies, doesn't it?_

"I spent the last ten minutes trying to wake you up. Wore me out a little. You're gonna have some bruises…" Zoe's voice trailed off. Maybe it wasn't wise to imply that she kicked Nancy in a frustrated attempt to wake her up. Whatever. "I undid one of the locks. Then my leg got trapped," she mentally cursed her carelessness. Because she got her leg trapped, she had to try and wake up the sleuth. "You need to do the other lock."

Words cannot express how much Zoe dreaded putting her life in someone else's hands. (Especially if that someone was Little Miss Nancy Drew.)

She sensed Nancy standing up and walking over to the lock. Then she heard the girl muttering something to herself: "Looks like the release is trapped behind the levers. I need to get it out."

_Yes, yes you do. Also, please stop talking to yourself. It's actually concerning._

"Hmm… I think I can do this," she heard Nancy say.

_Think. Wow, thanks for the glimmer of hope. I thought I could find the guy who drew those weird UFO alien stuff, no luck._

"Not reassuring!" Zoe pointed out, but sighed mentally. Maybe if she closed her eyes, this death will be over and done with. She won't even have to hear the sleuth. "Alright, well. I'm gonna do my best to enjoy the time I have left," she emphasized this, just in case it manages to motivate Nancy to _hurry up_. "It'll be brief, painful, and _full of garbage! _But that's life, isn't it? And that's the metaphor that I'm writing to the grave. The much smaller and flatter than average grave." Oh, yes. Now that would be a good thing to write on her tombstone, she could already imagine it.

She could hear Nancy scoff. "There is just no way I'm spending my last moments on Earth with _you_."

_Oh, the feeling is mutual, Nancy Drew._

"How do you think I feel? You're _you_." Probably a preschooler-leveled retort, but she shrugged it off. It wasn't like anyone else would hear her inside this trash compactor.

How she dreaded waiting for it to come.

What 'it' was, Zoe didn't know. She didn't even know what she would prefer 'it' to be. Her demise or her rescue? (If it was the second, then she really didn't want Nancy to rub the fact she saved her in her face. Maybe she won't. Then again, Nancy did snoop through her _freaking stuff_. She wouldn't put it below the detective to constantly point out that she saved her – ahem, _their – _lives.)

"What's your deal, huh? I just want to help."

Another mental sigh. Dear, oh dear, does she not know what she had gotten herself into. Zoe sucked in a breath, what she was about to say was going to be harsh. But someone had to say it. "And you're nothing but a _problem_! You can't help, Nancy. You're out of your league."

"So?"

What a childish reply.

So, Zoe did the only thing she could do. She gave a childish retort back: "So?"

She could already sense that the detective was frustrated. She was already trying to solve the stupid puzzle, and now she had to hear this. From Zoe, of all people. "So what if I am? I always am. It's never stopped me before!"

God. There is just no stopping her. She gave up trying to talk sense into the sleuth. "It's dark, Imagine I'm making a thoughtful face." If she was going to die right now, might as well do it true-Zoe style.

It was official, she was going to die inside a trash compactor. With a very obstinate, stubborn and childish detective. Zoe mentally groaned, this was so not how she expected today to go. Above all, she didn't expect this to be how she died. She thought it would be more morbid, and awesome. Maybe being discovered after going undercover in the mafia? Oh! How about meeting some old… acquaintances seeking revenge? Now, that would be an interesting way to die.

But, a trash compactor.

A freaking trash compactor.

How boring and dull and ridiculous.

And, just then, she heard Nancy exclaim something. Something like a "yes!". Zoe turned over to try and see what the detective accomplished. Did she actually do it?

"I have to give props to you, Drew," Zoe commented, rather surprised that Nancy Drew managed to undo the other lock.

She smirked to herself, grateful and feeling almost triumphant.

_Take that, trash compactor. Today, I do not die by your hands._

And maybe that sleuth wasn't so bad, after all.


End file.
